Surprise

Looking at cows in their high-roofy roomy Windy home, mid-afternoon idling,

Late winter, near spring, the fields not greening,

The wind North-East and sickening, the

Shrinking, the year growing.

The parapets Of toppled hay, the broken walls of hay,

The debris of hay.

The peace of cattle Mid-afternoon, cud-munching, eyelids lowered.

The deep platform of dung.

Looking at cows Sharing their trance, it was an anomalous Blue plastic apron I noticed Hitched under the tail of one cow That went on munching, with angling ears.

A glistening Hanging sheet of blue-black.

I thought Of aprons over ewes' back-ends To keep the ram out till it's timely.

I thought Of surgical aprons to keep cleanliness Under the shit-fall.

Crazily far thoughts Proposed themselves as natural, and I almost Looked away.

Suddenly The apron slithered, and a whole calf's Buttocks and hind-legs---whose head and forefeet Had been hidden from me by another cow--- Toppled out of its mother, and collapsed on the ground.

Leisurely, as she might be leisurely curious,

She turned, pulling her streamers of blood-tissue Away from this lumpish jetsam.

She nosed it Where it lay like a still-birth in its tissues.

She began to nibble and lick.

The jelly Shook its head and nosed the air.

She gave it The short small swallowed moo-grunts hungry cows Give when they stand suddenly among plenty.